On This Pirate Ship

A poem about the unsurities of love.

Part of my intuition,
It’s only a matter of time now,
I’m getting a whiff of the coming storm.
The storm I've prayed for, that could save my life.
I feel clouded by the doubts that torture my inner most thoughts.
Is it too good to be true, or more than I could imagine?
The weather is calm for now, but the unsurity locks me in my own personal inferno.
I’m here now, too far to turn back.
The flags of what’s destined are flying high.
Will it be days filled with grace, or days of dysphoria?
I’m all chained,
Seeing flashes of my potential bliss, freedom.
Will the day come?
Will I be alone in the bowels of this ship?
Cold, I'm feeling icy cold.
Bitterness, the ice pick, piercing my willingness to go on.
I’m stuck.
My heart sings at the thought of what could be..
In my cell, the sun moves along its path through the planks that others walk upon so freely.